Seekers Come in Threes
by SeekerWing
Summary: Firefly is one of the last of her kind. Having been forced to leave home, she is as alone as she has ever been, on a quest to find a place she truly belongs. Nobody likes a seeker, especially one with a past as plagued as hers.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Transformers. I do not own Star Trek, or any phrases that may correspond to phrases in Star Trek. I do not own many of the ideas I am using, and I understand that, in some place my understanding might be flawed.

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><p>Space. The Final Frontier. This is the log of the Seeker Firefly. Her mission: To find a lost warzone, to explore a new world, to boldly go where none of Paradron has gone before.<p>

She was utterly alone. In the cold, unforgiving, emptiness of space, drifting toward an organic planet, one that rumor alone told her was the place to go. Was she a fool? Yes. Would the trip be worth it? Only the stars could know. Such was the fate of the lone seeker, trine leader, sister, symbiotic partner, and friend. Such was the loss of a killer.

She was the perpetrator of an unforgivable crime. She knew this the second her mech creator's optics had stopped glowing. She knew her fate had been sealed from that point onward.

So she fled. She took to space, as only a seeker can do so abruptly. She launched in the direction of earth, unknowing of her future, knowing only that either she would die, or many, many others would die at her hands. She didn't stop to talk to her trine. She didn't stop to collect her symbiote. She flew.

A seeker was not meant to be alone. A seeker is born a social creature. All of the mechs and femmes of Cybertron were born social creatures, but a seeker even more so. Whereas others are created as one entity, to create their bonds and groups themselves, a Seeker was born in a pack of three, already having a base support system, already set up for success in the social world.

This seeker, however, was not alone, and in pain. She was following an impossible bond, one that she didn't even know how she had it. She was keening over the loss of two other bonds. She was wounded by the vacant hole of another. Now she was going to have to foster the strain of yet two more bonds, and to try to uphold the third, as long as she could, lest her symbiote die from the torture she had intended for herself alone.

Space. The perfect prison. She was more free than any land bound mech or femme she'd ever known, and yet, more trapped than anybody in some hint of a gravitational pull.

Her log begins long before the events of her self banishment. Her log begins back home, back when she is still little but a newborn sparkling. Few who are not seekers understand that memories start the instant you are born, for few who are not seekers understand the logging of memories at this point. Seekers have three times the chance at logging, and three of them to catch that moment, to share it with the two who didn't log it.

That process is plenty enough, for three sparklings who are never separated. For three bots who grow up never leaving each others side.

However, it is the loss of this process that can drive a seeker to insanity. Bonds are a vital thing, to keep one going even in the face of absolute defeat. The loss of such a bond, the straining of it, the increasing effort to keep it alive… These are the things that kill. Rarely is it that death is caused by the physical tearing and destroying of a bot's spark. It is those that the bot uplifted that are forced to find comfort in another, or risk facing death themselves.

Thus, bots are born social creatures. It is pure instinct, that drives them together, keeps them together, permanently interconnected through layer upon layer of infinite bonds, of siblings, of love, of symbiotic partnerships, of family…

This log was supposed to help her get herself through this lack of a supportive web, in the hopes that either she would safely land and find the lost bond, or that she would be found one day if her spark and mind couldn't handle it.

This is her log.

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><p>So this is the introduction! I'll be back with more soon! Thank you for reading! Any comments, praise, criticism, or other mentioning would be appreciated!<p>

~SeekerWing


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Transformers. I do not own Portal Two, or any quotes resembling quotes from Portal Two.

Also, here is the second installment! Please do not expect me to continuously update at this rate. Chapter length will likely increase, for reasons that you may perceive for yourself as they come out. So please - Read and enjoy.

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><p>Medical Override<br>Designation: Ratchet, Autobot Chief Medical Officer  
>Purpose: Data Retrieval<br>Access: **********  
>… Denied.<p>

Medical Override  
>Designation: Ratchet, Autobot Chief Medical Officer<br>Purpose: Data Retrieval  
>Access: **********<br>… Denied.

Medical Override  
>Designation: Raindrop, Medic in Training<br>Purpose: Leader's Request  
>Access: **********<br>… Granted.

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><p>Such is the silence of space. I am alone, again. And yet, I'm not. I can never be alone, as long as I can feel my family on the other end of these bonds. It is, however, torture, no matter how a bot may look at it. My name is Firefly, and this is my story.<p>

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><p>They were in a ship. Two femmes sat beside him, both as lost and bewildered as he. Their leader was a black and red femme, and the other one, black, silver, and pale blue in coloring, was his other sister. He looked down at himself now, at the black and deep green, emerald like in color.<p>

They were so colorful! The other bots they'd seen weren't nearly as colorful, taking dull blacks and greys. Would they lose their color when they got older?

The green mech, her brother, looked over at her, a faintly panicked expression on his face.. Their leader, the ruby femme, was standing up, her little winglets twitching as she looked out at the others. Her own sapphire form made her way toward the pretty green on his frame.

What was he panicking for? She chirped the inquiry, head tilted to the side, her own little winglets twitching in curiosity.

A hurried chirp returned to her, as he pointed at the dull mechs in the room, before pointing at his own emerald tone, and then her own sapphire coloring. The ruby femme was still standing, leaning against the side of their little imprisonment, trying to catch somebody's attention.

The sapphire femme chirped, deciding to ignore the emerald mech's panic, and gestured toward the ruby femme. Maybe they should help their leader?

None of the bigger bots were paying any attention to them! They didn't know what was going on! It wasn't fair! Who was taking the attention away from them? Why did they have to sit here like this?

A ruby-plated hand shot out of the little tub they were in, trying to catch the arm of a pale grey and white mech. He dodged out of the way, sending a soft smile at the little sparklet before heading back to the front of the ship.

What was so special about the front of the ship? Why were they so ignored in favor of the front of the ship? When a pair of sapphire hands gripped the edge of the tub beside her, she chirped her distress to her sister, before trying to get the attention of a dull black and grey femme passing by.

With a determined chirp, the ruby femme glanced determinedly at him, as he finally stood up to join the two femmes, as his sapphire sister sent an encouraging chirp to him.

The ruby one, the leader, was chirping, gesturing, trying to convey a plan… To get their creators? Or just to get some attention? No… She wanted to see the front. Wanted to see what was so important up there.

That… Was, admittedly, more interesting than whether or not they'd lose their pretty colors when they got older. Definitely more… Active.

With a chirp, he obliged to her plan.

Sapphire hands grasped the air between herself and her leader, who was now sprawled on the floor, in pain. They had, however, caught the attention of a mech from the back, so the plan wasn't all in vain.

He was a deep blue and a slate gray in coloring, with a slender, artful pair of wings on his back. Her emerald brother squealed with joy, seeing that not everybody was a dull coloring, not everybody was wingless and plain. She was glad that that was resolved.

The mech reached down to grab the ruby femme, a worried look on his face as her scooped her up and held her. This was their mech creator, wasn't it?

The pain was terrible! Why did the ground hit her like that? Was she not allowed to see the front? Her black and ruby form curled in on itself, before being scooped up into her mech creator's hands. Suddenly a wave of calm swept over her. It wasn't her calm, though… Was it his? She tugged on this calm, and identified it as her mech creator's, before sending back a wave of panic, followed by a twinge of relief. They weren't being ignored, they were just out of the way. She understood a bit better now.

It still hurt, but she chirped a couple of times at her siblings to let them know that she was all right.

She let out a surprisingly frustrated chirp. Why did her sister get attention and not her? Soon another bot, a gold and red femme, trotted over to their position, doting over their leader before peaking over to the sapphire and emerald sparklets, carefully grabbing them and holding them, to make sure they, too, got attention.

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><p>So we end the first entry. You didn't expect me to start with the action, did you? I suppose this log could have continued, since we aren't going anywhere… Well, we are going somewhere, alarmingly fast actually, but since we aren't busy other than that… I suppose I can't spend too much time starting off this log as opposed to watching… Where I'm going…<p>

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><p>Thank you for reading! Please, if you have any comments, questions, concerns, or otherwise, review or shoot me a message. Reviews will be addressed at the end of the next chapter, and messages will be replied to as possible. Please hang on for log entry two!<p>

~ Seekerwing


	3. Chapter 3

Alright, here's the next chapter! This story is off to a slow start, but I promise it gets better.

I do not own transformers. I'm leaving it at that today.

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><p>Seekers are so well known for being able to fly through space unaided, but honestly, I don't see what's so great about it. I'd prefer the aid. At least then I wouldn't be talking to myself. But I'm talking to you… Aren't I? Who are you, anyway? I mean, as far as I know I could be talking to the stars. Hello stars. How are you, stars? That's great!<p>

They aren't the greatest conversational partners, partners, you see. Of course, I could go on about this forever – I might, actually – but that won't finish the next part of the log. So. You have fun, I'll just… Drift.

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><p>Information Editing<p>

Designation: Firefly, Autobot Seeker

Purpose: Earthling Knowledge

Access: I don't need a code.

… Granted.

Names are a very special thing. In seeker culture, and possibly others, too, each member of a young trine were born knowing one or two specific glyphs, straight from their spark, that are a hard-wired subject of their underlying personality coding. Their outer personality may change over time, but this hardwired underlying spark code is the basis for the rest of their lives.

In seeker culture, younglings are allowed to find and express these glyphs themselves, after receiving their youngling frames, as well as the coding to help them learn communication. There are some glyphs, however, that no true Paradronian wants in their name. Call it stereotyping, if you want. The glyphs are only base representations of this coding. To be honest, your human languages make it even more basic, losing almost the entire basis of the glyphs in the first place, so… This memory is pretty much lost on you human types.

The names addressed here are my trine, whose earth names would go something along the lines of Firefly, Raindrop, and Stonewall. As a side note, I hadn't intended to name myself after an insect, seeing as I clearly am _not_ a bug. Just remember that.

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><p>The room was still really big. She had hoped that maybe it would be more accessible once she got her youngling frame, but nothing much had changed. Except that they now looked a bit more like their mech creator, what with actually functioning flight systems, and the shock absorbing double-kneed legs of most seekers.<p>

They'd be learning to fly today, too, if her brother could figure out how to walk with the double jointed legs. He was actually quite clever, usually. He was just easily overwhelmed. The emerald seeker was, as of now, working on figuring it out, again, with the help of the sapphire one. They were good together.

The ruby femme chose to let them work together, seeing as she was not only easily frustrated, but sometimes one on one was better than trine work. Instead, she was trying to find her designation glyphs, trying to discover what it was that she would be called. She had been informed of nothing, other than the fact that it was in her spark. How frustrating was it, that when she wanted information, she couldn't get it, while she got too much when she didn't care?

She gave up on the sketch she was making, of random lines that she hoped would form the glyphs, and stood up to walk over to the other two. It looked like her brother was finally getting the hang of the motion of the new form. They were certainly unique, when compared to the other younglings she'd seen. They were taller, slimmer, and they had a very unique design. They were mostly grounders, though, to be fair.

With a wicked grin, she leaned forward, tucking her wings back for speed and balance, and charged her siblings, pouncing to tackle them, savoring the feel of the air across her form. She couldn't wait to fly.

Landing in a pile of limbs, she picked herself up to glare at their trine leader, who had devolved to fits of giggles, whereas her poor brother was more bewildered than ever, his legs bending in ways that he still thought to be unnatural, as he managed at last to get to his feet on the first try.

"Not as hard as you thought, is it?" The ruby femme chimed, a stupidly satisfied grin on her face.

The two femmes of the trine were practically spinning as his poor bewildered processors tried to catch up with the situation. Had his leader just attacked them? Why would she do that? That was hardly fair!

"You didn't have to pounce, did you?" He responded to his leader incredulously, his tone deeper, but still fitting to his current form. Only then did he realize that he was on his own feet, as he wiggled the single toe attached to the joint. "Hey! I did it! I'm up again!"

His excitement seemed to be contagious, as all three younglings whooped, taking turns pouncing each other. Their leader may be eccentric, but her ideas worked, most of the time, to some degree or another.

Looking up at the other two, the ruby femme hummed for a moment, in a sudden serious moment, before scrambling over to her sketch. She had it! She found her designation glyphs! She sketched them up, more than just a few scratches on the paper, but like art. These glyphs determined what bots everywhere would call her for the rest of her life. They deserved something better than chicken scratch on the soft surface she was etching in.

With a careful swoop, some swift dashes, and a handful of spots on the page, each forming two distinct glyphs, each fitting together to represent that which was her, the core of her being, the person that not even she had discovered yet. Only when she was done did she actually look at the glyphs, did she notice her trine watching her over her shoulders.

The first one was a glyph the represented intensity, extremes, the wild card, passion, and the flame. The second glyph was one of freedom, spirit, nonconformance, and escape. It was a good combination, but not necessarily a well accepted one. It looked pretty at least. She chirped at the other two, handing them the sketch materials.

This would be her designation. These glyphs meant more about her than anything anybody else could ever say, but translation was a rough process. This was a lost art, and many bots of other cultures simply chose their own name, ignorant of the tradition of glyph finding.

This much, she knew. Many of the older bots didn't know how quickly a seeker's mind developed, what with the power of three and the advanced systems and psychology that seekers pretty much came with. They didn't trust them with the kinds of things that bots of their level normally got to know, because of their age.

"**Does it bug you guys, that all the older bots treat us like we're dumb?"** The red femme inquired, her back to them, her wings twitching, annoyed at this sudden realization.

"**Why do you think that?"** A higher pitched tone replied, that belonging to the sapphire femme, who had just finished her own designation art, below her trine leader's sketch.

"**They only barely told us how to find our core designation, and that was at our mech creator's urging. What did they expect? Did they think we'd go nameless until we got our full frames?"** She huffed in frustration, pacing back and forth now with her side toward her sister.

"**Well, surely they just don't understand how to deal with a trine. I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually."** She glanced over at her brother as he enthusiastically scratched on the sketch material.

"**When do you think they'll realize that somebody needs to teach us how to fly? Or will dad have to argue that point, too? I'm not sure if you noticed, but this place isn't well equipped for flight."** She scuffed the ground with her foot in frustration, turning her red-tinted purple optics to her sister, trying to convey her point.

"**Hey, guys? I'm done with the sketch board."** Her brother's voice pitched in, as both of the femmes glanced over for a moment, before crowding the emerald mech and the sketch board.

The sapphire femme's glyphs indicated a calm, tranquility, the bringing of gifts, and a medium of growth, follow by a glyph of coming, preparation, warning, and the first sign. The emerald mech's glyphs had one of solidity, a gentle sureness, a slow awareness, and a faithful presence. This was followed by a glyph of defense, protection, dedication, and necessary retaliation.

Each of the three sets of glyphs complemented each other nicely. This was one thing their father had talked to them about. Seekers were always born together, but if they weren't meant to be a trine, they'd discover it in their names. He hadn't told them what to do about it, but if that was a test, they'd certainly passed.

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><p>You've met the family, you've seen the names, and now you can begin to understand us a bit more. This is a vital part of understanding our stories, individually as well as together. Meanwhile, I'd like to point out that I'm getting closer to earth as we speak, so these log entries are going to have to skip ahead a bit more. Hopefully, they won't skip too much, seeing as, if I die in battle before meeting anybody to trust, this is all that's left of my story.<p>

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><p>\/SW\/\

So now you've met the three. I'd like to start a small competition, though. If you can guess what's really going on, outside of the story, even a small chunk of it, I'll write a chapter up for you. This can be any scene in their life, or a one shot in a separate area. I kinda want to hear what the readers think is going on. Also note that I won't let one idea pass twice, so be fast.

Reviews will be responded to here, and messages will be responded to via message, so don't be afraid to put in your word!

**purrpix:** Thanks! I'm glad you like it! :)

~SeekerWing


	4. Chapter 4

I don't own transformers... I can't even afford to fix my own car. :/

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><p>Seekers can go insane when they strain their bonds. They can lose every sense of their own selves without the confirmation of their other two parts... And I have far more than two other parts. My bond energy is so fragmented and torn that I don't even begin to understand how I keep functioning, but... Well, you have to understand a seeker's bond, before you can truly understand the mental instability caused by the loss of such a bond.<p>

Rarely does such conversation involve actual verbal speech, except for the benefit of others... I don't even know if any non-seeker could ever understand the nuances of the life of a seeker, but I have to try, don't I? The universe needs to understand us better, somehow, someday. We'll see.

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><p>Information Editing<p>

Designation: Firefly, Autobot Seeker

Purpose: Info Sharing

Access: Shut Up

… Granted.

She loved the air brushing her ever-so-sensitive sensors as she gracefully swooped through the air. They had been practicing together, learning how to anticipate each other's movements through nothing more than the ever so faint hints on their bonds, the whispering touch that shifted with their bodies. They were becoming more attuned to each other, and were learning that they could only rely on each other. They were supposed to be in class right now, honestly. Music class, that is. Every trine has some kind of special... Talent, of sorts. Some bent weather, some were charismatic masters, and others were just insane. These talents always yeilded something special to their communities, if they were used and appreciated properly.

Seekers had always been famous for their contributions to society as scholars, artists, and strategists of many different shapes and forms - but for that knowledge, Firefly had noted that there were very few seekers on Paradron - and the ones that were there never came in a trine. They never came in three, and they seemed chronically ruined for it. If there weren't three seekers, something was very, very wrong. Seekers were also odd in that often, they were raised by either a whole community, traditionally, or an odd number of parental units. Firefly, Moondrop, and Stonewall had three parental units - though, of course, only two actually contributed to the creation of their sparks. The third was automatically brought in as an adoptive parent. Their family was one of the rare cases of a trine that wasn't born together - either they'd lost their original trines, or they weren't compatible at birth, as they were supposed to be. Such complications were difficult to accomodate, and a seeker that became part of a knew trine would always feel the faint echo of the lost bonds of their original trine, living or not. It was a complicated manner, and as such, Firefly often worried about their parents, and has often had her worry assuaged by the ever gentle and patient Moondrop.

Her parents had always been hiding things from them, though - hiding something obviously terrible, something that perhaps they weren't ready to talk about, but something that they needed to know, and Firefly got so stressed about it, so worried, that it threw their brother into fits, and Moondrop would end up trying to calm both of them down. Now was one of those times.

They were supposed to be at lessons - music lessons. Singing was their talent - something their parent trine referred to as "Spark Attunement" in which their sparks would harmonize so closely that they made a music themselves, even while their voices weaved together, and the energy and beauty of it could create enough energy to recharge a room of bots, and could even, in the purest of circumstances, be used to harvest energon - something that was scarce on Paradron. They were sought for a talent that wasn't even developed, and they were both hated for a story that they didn't know, and longed for for a talent that they hadn't developed yet. They were a tool to the colonists, and nothing more.

They were in their third youngling stage now, when their talent was to be discovered and developed, or this wouldn't be a concern, but the tug of war over the younglings had become more than their leader, who tried often to take the brunt of such political rope tying to protect her trine, could handle. Stonewall was a very protective young mech, though, and seeing his leader in distress got him all out of sorts, even when he could do nothing about it, and Moondrop, the last to fall to such distress, was beginning to fall apart at the seams as well. The flight, while the intent had been one of a theraputic nature, had turned into a bitter sorrow and tug of war even between the three sparks as they both clung to each other for comfort, and stabbed at each other in frustration.

This was how they had first discovered their talent as well, their flight being a bonding thing for them. Their sparks had tuned to each other in the air, creating a strong and hauntingly beautiful, wild hum - untamed, untrained, and potentially dangerous for the younglings. When untrained, it was rather the equivalent to a dangerous overcharge on the highest grade energon, and could overload a spark, though the effect was surprisingly relaxing for the younglings. It was tiring, as well, and, untamed, could pull on the energy of the bots around them, draining their spark energy as well, though not through malicious intent - rather, through a spark-born desire for an impossible harmony, and a talent with the potential to achieve it.

Their landing had been more of a crash, as their own energy was expended without the correct harness to the harmony that was naturally produced. The lessons were both good for them, and very, very exhausting. None of them liked the lessons, but all of them understood the importance of them. That didn't stop them from skipping every once in a while.

Their instructor was a nice man, one who had lost his trine to some tragedy, but would not tell the story. No seeker wanted to tell the story, and everybody else seemed terrified of the younglings. It didn't help that they were already taller, more slender, and more powerful than most of the other bots on this planet - and somehow, they were also the least respected, the most pushed away.

They would have their childhood issues - they all knew that - but Firefly feared that the other two didn't know just how vastly different they were ending up. Yes, they made a perfect harmony, but they would never be exactly the same, and they never had been. They worked, though. They worked well together - but not apart. The trine wordlessly moved on; they'd delayed their lesson for too long.

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><p>I have no home. I have no family. I have nothing but Starclaw, weak and dying, unprepared for travel in space, unprepared for my emotional instability... I have to stop this. It's too painful to continue...<p>

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><p>\\/\\/\\/\\-SeekerWing-/\\/\\/\\/\\

I apologize for being gone for so long; there is no excuse for how long I've been gone, but the intensity of the time I've spent away surely is punishment enough for my neglect in the other areas of my life. Anyway... Please enjoy this chapter, if you're still out there. I'm going to try to get a few more up, to string them together, to make sense of them - you'll see.


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